


Sweet Surrender

by dracoqueen22



Series: Flights of Fancy [3]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Fluff, Harpyformers, Hot Springs, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-21
Updated: 2016-05-21
Packaged: 2018-06-09 19:42:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6920428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dracoqueen22/pseuds/dracoqueen22
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Megatron's daydreaming leads to a surprise for Rodimus involving a little bit of his favorite treat, and a lot of courting romance. Win-win.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sweet Surrender

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TheAirCommand](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheAirCommand/gifts).



> This standalone piece is part of a larger universe of Harpyformers called 'Flights of Fancy' that I'm still in the process of working on. This one should stand fairly well on it's own, however.
> 
> Some terms may be unfamiliar to readers. The glossary can be found here: http://dracoqueen22.tumblr.com/post/133760871949/flights-of-fancy-glossary. Please visit my tumblr and the tag "flights of fancy" for meta, fic snippets, Harpy culture, et cetera. You should also visit Ephdraws' tumblr and her harpyformers tag for gorgeous pics of these Harpyformers, as she's my partner-in-crime on this wonderful AR. :)

Megatron had close to a hundred Harpies in his flock. Given the population of every flock in the entirety of Cybertron, his was merely a feather in a wing. In Vos, his flock would have been smaller than a family tree. In Crystal City, his flock was smaller than a guild. In Iacon, his flock was smaller than a training unit.  
  
Why then, Megatron wondered, did they generate so much scrollwork? Invoices. Inventory. Stock reports. Personal inquiries. Security concerns. Compliments – Now, those Megatron liked.  
  
But there was so much more.  
  
Some of it, Megatron foisted off on Orion. He enjoyed books and scrolls and studying and history. Surely, he also enjoyed scrollwork in addition to the datawork and historical record he kept for the flock.  
  
Sometimes, Megatron would sneak into the tiny office Orion had claimed for himself, and lay a couple extra scrolls on his oldest friend's desk. Yet, mysteriously, they would always reappear in Megatron's office the next morning. It was a curious thing.  
  
Soundwave, sadly, had little time for scrollwork. He had four siblings to care for, Megatron to look after, and his duties as Speaker took up much of his time. In fact, he had so little free time Megatron was a bit concerned.  
  
Soundwave needed a mate. He was a good brother, a good caretaker for his siblings, and certainly a good caretaker for Megatron. He would make some Harpy – whether smol or bara or inbetween – a fine mate some orn.  
  
Now Rodimus… Rodimus was useless for scrollwork.  
  
Megatron sighed and lowered his scroll.  
  
Rodimus should have been better. He'd been raised in Iacon. He'd been raised to be the next Magnus of his flock. Which wasn't to say Rodimus didn't know how to do scroll work because he did, he simply didn't like to. He didn't have the patience to be still. He fidgeted. He wiggled. He flared his feathers. He fumbled the quill. He left blots of ink on himself and all over the paper.  
  
Rodimus would smile, just wide enough for a hint of teeth, and a peek of his pink tongue. He'd wink, perform a shimmy of his rump, his feathers catching the midday sun. He'd roll his hips and… and….  
  
Megatron swallowed thickly.  
  
Rodimus made the sexiest sounds when Megatron grabbed his hips. He mewled so delightfully when Megatron bore him down to his nest and buried his face in Rodimus' featherdown. Rodimus smelled so sweet. He was always damp by the time Megatron got his tongue down there, by the time he got his first taste of Rodimus' slick. He squirmed so enticingly as Megatron licked him deep.  
  
Megatron loved it when he pushed into Rodimus, and Rodimus tossed his head back. When Rodimus clawed at his shoulders, his back, his antrum pulsing around Megatron's clava. He loved the look on Rodimus' face, one of fierce bliss, and the way he glowed in the aftermath and snuggled close.  
  
Yes. Rodimus was terrible at work, but he was so very good at other things.  
  
Like that thing he did with his mouth that one time he was the first to tackle Megatron into the nest. Megatron had squawked at him, outraged and surprised, only to nearly swallow his tongue as Rodimus dove in at his sheath, drawing out Megatron's clava with lips and tongue. He'd cradled Megatron's hips in his hands and swallowed the tip of Megatron's clava.  
  
Megatron's face heated at the memory. His clava dared to stir, sheath moistening to allow it free. It, too, recalled the heat and suction of Rodimus' mouth. It was something Megatron would like to experience again.  
  
“Liege.”  
  
Megatron froze, the fire draining from his face. He gripped the scrolls in front of him and half-turned.  
  
“Yes, Soundwave?”  
  
Had he forgotten his Speaker was there? Why yes, he had. Would he admit that aloud? Of course not!  
  
Though Soundwave probably already knew. Sometimes, his Speaker and dear friend had an eerie way about him, understanding things that left most other Harpies confused or flustered.  
  
Soundwave stared at him, his gaze inscrutable behind the visor, his arms folded across his chest. The long feathers of his wings formed an impenetrable curtain around his body. It was a tactic he often employed when he wanted to intimidate. It didn't quite work on Megatron. Usually anyway.  
  
“The hot springs,” Soundwave said.  
  
Megatron blinked. “I… beg pardon?” He looked down at himself, twitched his scapula, inhaled deeply. Nothing was amiss, however. “Are you implying that I am dirty? Or that my… my odor offends you?”  
  
Soundwave's feathers rustled. “Rodimus,” he said, as if that was the answer to Megatron's question.  
  
“He bathes more than I do,” Megatron retorted, his brow ridge drawing flat as confusion settled in. “Or is that the problem?”  
  
Soundwave sighed and unfolded his arms. “Take Rodimus to the hot springs.”  
  
Megatron swore that Soundwave was inscrutable on purpose. “I do that all the time. Why would I--” He broke off, a thought occurring to him, as the heat returned to his face. “Oh. I see.”  
  
Yes. The hot springs. A place for cleanliness but also… a place for romance. Something of which Megatron knew very little, but Rodimus deserved. He'd had none before Megatron. He deserved to be wooed, to be courted, all the steps they'd mostly skipped on their path to becoming mates.  
  
Megatron coughed into his hand and gave his Speaker a sideways glance. “You would volunteer to be Tryst Guard?”  
  
“Yes.” Soundwave reached out, tapping the scrolls in Megatron's grasp. “Especially if it means you'll focus on your work from here on out.”  
  
Focus. Yes. If only it were so easy.  
  
His face heated again. Megatron pretended otherwise. “I will concentrate,” he promised, and dutifully bent over the scrolls again, though the words swam in front of his eyes.  
  
Focus was easier said than done. Fantasy replaced memory, and all he could think about was Rodimus in the hot springs, splashing around happily, or soaking up the heat. His feathers glittering with little water droplets. The steam rising around him. That little purr in his throat when Megatron stroked him….  
  
Primus help him.  
  
Megatron swallowed thickly and tried to concentrate on the supply report again. If he had any hope of making that fantasy a reality, he had to earn it.  
  
“Thank you,” Megatron said as he bent his attention back to his work, as dry and boring as it might be. “For the idea and the offer.”  
  
Soundwave made a rumbling-purr deep in his chest, a sound of affection. “You're welcome.”  
  


~

  
  
Rumble had delivered the invitation, written in a compact script that was quite obviously Megatron's handwriting. The little brat had snickered at Rodimus' confused face, and then scampered away before Rodimus could interrogate him about it.  
  
Something was Up.  
  
If not for the fact Rodimus would know Megatron's handwriting anywhere, he'd think this was a joke or a trick on the Twins' part. Rumble and Frenzy could be quite the pranksters when they were bored, or Soundwave hadn't kept them sufficiently busy. Rodimus had enough of picking sap out of his feathers, thank you very much.  
  
But no. The tiny scroll was indeed from Megatron, and the invitation seemed legit. It was a strange invitation. Hardly anyone used the hot springs at night because drying took too long, and no one wanted a damp nest or moldy feathers. Besides, Rodimus had just scrubbed out Megatron's scapulae the day before yesterday, and it was unlikely Megatron needed it again.  
  
Megatron treated bathing as an unfortunate necessity, rather than the relaxing luxury it could be. He carried a special sort of loathing that Rodimus found both hilarious and endearing. It wasn't that Megatron was dirty or that he had an odor – neither were true – but he did put off the deep-cleaning as long as possible.  
  
It was a point of constant contention between he and Ratchet in fact. Rodimus had seen more than one of their disagreements, and they'd always left him a little hot under the proverbial collar. Most of the time for Megatron. Rodimus would never, ever admit – not even upon pain of torture or death – the one time he'd gotten a hard-on for Ratchet. He'd had to fly it off because like frag was he gonna pillow-hump it away. Frag that.  
  
Rodimus shook his head and peered at the invitation again. It was just weird. Not only because Rumble had delivered it, but because of what it entailed.  
  
Oh, well. Scrubbing Megatron was hardly a chore, and Rodimus admitted that he loved getting his claws all over his soon-to-be mate. He loved the way Megatron purred when Rodimus dug his talons deep, right to the feather-base. Megatron's feathers would go all soft, and his eyes gentled, and he would take great care when it was Rodimus' turn to be cleaned.  
  
Nope. Not a chore at all.  
  
Rodimus bounced on his tarsals and hopped down the last level to the ground floor where the hot springs were appropriately located, there in the wide roots of the main tree. Large fronded ferns and fireflies lingered around the curtained entrance, and so did Soundwave. He just stood there like some kind of sentry. It was a touch unnerving.  
  
Rodimus blinked. “Uh. We need guards on the hot springs now or something?” he asked as Soundwave shifted to acknowledge his arrival.  
  
The often silent Speaker shook his head. “Megatron waits,” he said, by way of answer. Ever laconic that one. He did gesture to the springs entryway though.  
  
Rodimus grinned. “Oh, okay. Thanks, I guess.” He shot Soundwave another look, but the Speaker said nothing else, his visor following Rodimus up until the moment he ducked under the curtain and entered the damp heat of the bathing springs.  
  
There were several pools here. Larger ones for family units or friend groups. Tinier ones for mates or for single-Harpy soaks. A couple broad, yet shallow ones for the fledgelings. There was nothing private about it. No need, really. They weren't humans with silly hang-ups about obscenity. Hot springs were for bathing. Nothing else.  
  
Megatron was at the pool in the back, one of the deeper ones that most of the larger bara tended to gravitate toward because they could fully submerge if they wanted. It was the one Megatron favored nearly every time they came down here, if it wasn't already occupied. Rodimus figured Megatron liked it because it was surrounded on all sides by some steep outcroppings.  
  
It was private, but most of all, it was defensible. Rodimus grinned to himself. Megatron talked in terms like that often. Whatever he'd done in his previous flock, Rodimus suspected he was in the military or the guard or something. He had that air about him.  
  
“You know,” Rodimus said as he hopped from one outcrop to another and slid into the hot springs with a light splash. It was the perfect temperature, and Rodimus purred a little as his lower half was engulfed. “You could have told me this morning that you wanted a scrub tonight.”  
  
Megatron wiped a few stray droplets from his face with the back of his hand. “I don't want a scrub,” he said.  
  
Rodimus blinked. “Then why are we here?” He looked around, half-expecting Frenzy and Rumble to drop out of the ceiling. Was this a prank after all?  
  
They were all alone. Not a single one of the other pools were occupied. In fact, it was so quiet, Rodimus could hear the crickets chirping beyond the roots, and the vegetation rustling in the wind, and the quiet trickle of the water.  
  
They were also, Rodimus realized belatedly, surrounded by several candles, sweetly smelling ones that Megatron had to have acquired from the humans. They perched on several little nooks and crannies in the surrounding rock wall. A few had gone out, probably from Rodimus' splashing. There was a little plate near Megatron with – Rodimus gasped.  
  
“Are those raspberries?” he asked, scooting across the pool before he could think twice about it, half in Megatron's lap as he sniffed at the tray. “They are!” His mouth watered. “They don't even grow over here. How did you get them?” They even had a little white dusting on them – sugar? He'd gotten sugar!  
  
Megatron's hand landed on his back, steadying him. Rodimus clutched at the edge of the springs, off-balance wobbling perched as he was on Megatron's lap.  
  
“We may be isolated, but we have our contacts,” Megatron said, his hand stroking a gentle pattern down Rodimus' back. “That and the humans find it easier to travel between nations then we do.”  
  
Rodimus shifted so that he was more comfortably seated in Megatron's lap. He faced his mate-to-be, his legs straddling Megatron's, knees pressed to the ledge. The warm water of the springs lapped at his mid-torso as Rodimus held onto the edge to either side of Megatron.  
  
“You traded with the humans to get those for me?” Rodimus asked, his eyes widening.  
  
He paused, looked around him again. Empty hot springs. Candles. His favorite treats.  
  
Rodimus' face heated. Realization set in. He dragged his gaze back to Megatron, who was suddenly looking everywhere but at him.  
  
“I remember that raspberries are your favorite,” Megatron said, his hands slipping beneath the surface of the water to rest on Rodimus' hips. The weight of them was both welcome and familiar. “You said last week that you missed them.”  
  
Rodimus swallowed thickly. He'd admitted a lot of things last week that he hadn't meant to. Missing raspberries went hand in hand with missing his carrier, his creator, his younger sibling. He'd hated being trapped in Iacon, but it wasn't all terrible. He loved being here in Kaon with Megatron and the rest of the flock.  
  
Sometimes, though, he just got a little homesick was all.  
  
“Thank you,” Rodimus murmured as he rose on his knees and pressed his nose to Megatron's cheek, laying a gentle kiss against the curve of his mate's jaw. “I guess this whole thing was supposed to be romantic, huh? I kinda ruined that.”  
  
Megatron turned his head, his lips brushing across Rodimus' in the process. “You've ruined nothing.” His hands flexed on Rodimus' hips, talons massaging and cradling his weight. “You are here, we are alone, and that is what I wanted most.”  
  
Rodimus' face heated. When Megatron spoke like this, it made his insides flutter. He was so used to gruff Megatron, dismissive Megatron. He sometimes forgot that he was allowed to do this now. That he could lift up a few inches and capture Megatron's lips and Megatron wouldn't turn away from him.  
  
So he did.  
  
He showed his appreciation by stealing his mate's lips for a slow and lingering kiss. Megatron tasted sweet and tart – someone had taste-tested the raspberries apparently. Rodimus smiled into the kiss and lifted his arms, dripping water everywhere as he draped them over Megatron's shoulders. He heard the hiss of another candle extinguishing, but that was neither here nor there.  
  
He liked to sit like this sometimes. He loved the way their feathers contrasted. How Megatron was so powerfully stark and grey, but Rodimus himself was a bloom of brightness. He especially loved that Megatron had such strong colors, but still these vibrant streaks of red, like he was meant for Rodimus all along.  
  
Megatron returned the kiss gently, his lips moving over Rodimus'. One hand remained on Rodimus' hips, while the other shifted to cup Rodimus' rump, giving it a little massage. His chest rumbled with a purr of affection.  
  
Rodimus grinned into the kiss and ended it with a little nip of his teeth. “Thank you,” he repeated, rubbing his nose against Megatron's, knowing such a thing tended to make his lover squirm.  
  
Crimson eyes gleamed at him. “You are welcome.” Megatron pressed his forehead to Rodimus', their bodies coming together in a surge of heat, and his crest feathers twitching. “This is a welcome surprise then?”  
  
“Very much.” Rodimus wriggled his hips, rolling his body against Megatron's front in a not-so-subtle request. He'd spent so long wanting Megatron that it was hard to keep his hands off Megatron when he had the opportunity to do so. “I take it that Soundwave is standing out front so that we can have some privacy?”  
  
“Do you oppose?”  
  
Rodimus curled his arms around Megatron's neck and pulled himself against Megatron's front, grinding his featherdown against Megatron's belly. “Does it look like I do?” He pulled up, nipping Megatron's bottom lip between his teeth. “I kinda want to show you my appreciation now.”  
  
“Is that so?” Megatron pulled him back down, so that his rump nestled in Megatron's lap, and Rodimus felt the insistent poke of an excited clava against the inside curve of his thigh. “In which way?”  
  
“Mmm.” Rodimus rolled his hips, riding the length of the clava, while his antrum fluttered, arousal tightening into a delicious knot in his belly. “Why don't you slide this thing inside me and I'll show you?” he said with a smirk.  
  
Megatron barked a chuckle, one that shifted into a rolling laugh. “Rodimus, that was terrible,” he said. But his grip flexed on Rodimus' hips, shifting his position so that the head of his clava rubbed against the rim of Rodimus' antrum. “Who in Kaon taught you that?”  
  
“Hey! I thought of it myself!” Rodimus retorted, indignant. That was some quality seduction material there!  
  
“Ah. I see.” Megatron's lips curved into something more indulgent and teasing. “Then yes, allow me to slide this thing inside of you.”  
  
Well, when he put it that way, it did sound pretty ridiculous.  
  
Rodimus' face heated, and he buried it against Megatron's chest. “Shut up.” His body seemed oblivious to his embarrassment, his antrum rippling with need, his nub throbbing. Megatron's clava teased him by brushing against his antrum, but not entering. “Just frag me already then.”  
  
Megatron chuckled. “I will.” He leaned down, nudging against Rodimus' head until he forced Rodimus to look at him. “So long as you never change,” he murmured as he caught Rodimus' lips for a soft, scorching kiss.  
  
Rodimus moaned into it, his talons kneading a desperate pattern against Megatron's shoulder. Even more so when Megatron finally rocked against him, the head of his clava nudging into Rodimus' antrum and filling him in one long, slow push. Rodimus' back arched, his walls tightening around the welcome length.  
  
This. Exactly this.  
  
He bit at Megatron's mouth, their tongues tangling. Megatron growled a purr in his chest, the vibrations carrying through the air, the water, and against Rodimus' body. He kneaded harder against Megatron, begging for more.  
  
Rodimus' hips danced. He couldn't help himself. He pushed down, but Megatron held fast to him, keeping him from speeding up the process. It was a sweet torture, and Rodimus loved every minute of it. His antrum rippled, trying to urge Megatron deeper, but he was apparently made of sterner stuff, as he seemed content to ignore the signs Rodimus gave him.  
  
Rodimus broke off the kiss with a gasp, little urgent noises in his throat that echoed around them. The sweet smell of the raspberries blended with Megatron's natural musk and the mineral scent of the springs. It was all so intoxicating, that it left his thoughts spinning. Rodimus struggled to ground himself.  
  
“You know we haven't eaten the raspberries,” Rodimus said as Megatron nuzzled into his throat, leaving little kisses behind.  
  
Megatron chuckled. “They'll keep,” he said, and rolled his hips again, rocking into Rodimus with gentle motions that left him clutching Megatron tighter.  
  
“Okay.” Rodimus moaned, his clava throbbing where it rubbed against Megatron's featherdown. The springs whisked away his pre-fluid, but there would be opportunities to mark Megatron later.  
  
Megatron's clava inched deeper into his antrum, throbbing against his inner walls. Rodimus rippled around him, a shiver wracking his body. Despite the heat of the water, he tingled all over. His antrum clamped down, trying to work Megatron deeper. This position wouldn't allow Megatron to go deep enough for a lock, but it still felt oh so good.  
  
Megatron's hands slid up his hips, his sides, and then they slid around Rodimus' back until they rose higher still and cupped Rodimus' face, framing it. His hands were so large that Rodimus felt even smaller in their grip, though Megatron was gentle. The hold ensured that they were looking at each other, that their eyes met, and Megatron's glowed at him, soft and bright with emotion.  
  
“I will feed them to you,” Megatron murmured, his deep bass rolling into Rodimus' ears and making him shudder.  
  
Arousal rolled along with it, throbbing through Rodimus' entire body. His heart fluttered. His breathing accelerated. He didn't dare look away. He didn't want to.  
  
“One by one,” Megatron continued, and pressed a kiss to Rodimus' forehead.  
  
He pressed a string of them in fact, gentle flutters of his lips across the bridge of Rodimus' nose, over his cheeks, across the arch of his cheekbone, and then the curve of his jaw.  
  
“You make this happy little noise when you eat something you like,” Megatron added, his voice still a murmur, a seductive whisper designed to make Rodimus melt.  
  
And melt he did.  
  
He sank into Megatron's embrace. His feathers rustled, the hot water lapping at his body, but it was nothing compared to the heat of Megatron against him.  
  
“I will stroke your lips with the back of my knuckle after each one.” Megatron's lips brushed Rodimus', but then they were gone again, wandering to Rodimus' nearest ear. “I will kiss you, taste the raspberries on your lips, your tongue. Only then will I feed you another.”  
  
“That's not fair,” Rodimus breathed, arching against his mate, arousal throbbing harder and faster. He rocked his hips, rolling his clava against Megatron's belly as he ground down on Megatron's clava.  
  
“Which part?” Megatron's mouth wandered down to his throat, teeth nipping and lips soothing each soft bite with a kiss. “That I enjoy treating you? That I enjoy kissing you? Holding you? Listening to you?”  
  
Rodimus would never admit to whimpering, not if anyone later asked. Megatron had never spoken so sweetly to him. Oh, he'd whispered compliments before, and it was quite obvious that he enjoyed being with Rodimus. But this was something different altogether.  
  
It was, in a word, romance.  
  
Rodimus moaned, his head tilting back, exposing his throat to Megatron's lips and teeth and tongue. To the flick of Megatron's tongue against the shadow of previous claiming bites, each wet lick making Rodimus twitch. His insides clenched. Heat poured over his body in waves.  
  
“I am only speaking the truth, Rodimus,” Megatron purred against his throat before he dragged his lips back up, his hands returning to Rodimus' hips, and he would admit to missing their heat around his face. “I enjoy all of you, everything that you give me. From your sweet antrum, to your fierce spirit, and your kind heart.”  
  
Oh, no.  
  
Rodimus' face flamed with embarrassment. He tucked his head against Megatron as the sweet words made his heart swell, his fingers tremble. Megatron thrust into him harder, the water splashing around them, his clava grinding against Rodimus' deepest wall.  
  
“Oh, the things you say,” Rodimus moaned. He ground down hard, trying to force Megatron as deep as possible, clenching his antrum around his prospective mate's length.  
  
He wanted Megatron's release. He wanted to feel the spill inside of him, surely hotter than the springs, coating him deep inside.  
  
“Take me,” Rodimus said, and he knew he would find himself embarrassed later. He would remember the hushed, urgent words between them, and he would be utterly mortified, but for now, it was worth it.  
  
Worth it to hear Megatron growl deep in his chest. To feel his grip tighten, his thrusts become more urgent.  
  
“Please, Megatron,” Rodimus pleaded, nuzzling his way to Megatron's throat, letting his teeth and tongue graze against the soft fuzz of it. He felt Megatron swallow against his lips, the bob of his throat.  
  
“Take me, claim me, make me yours.” Rodimus shivered as another fierce thrust made stars dance in his vision.  
  
Megatron moaned, low and deep. He tilted his head just enough that Rodimus could taste his throat, could drag his canines lightly against the delicate skin. He swore he could feel the rapid flutter of Megatron's heartbeat.  
  
Megatron pulled him down and thrust up all in the same fierce grip. The sound he made was something guttural, primal. He crushed Rodimus against him as he growled a single word and spilled himself deep inside.  
  
“Mine.”  
  
Rodimus moaned, his hips dancing, his grip tightening on Megatron to a rhythm of agreement. His teeth grazed Megatron's throat before biting, not enough to draw blood, but enough to mark. Enough to leave an impression. He swore he could feel the heat of Megatron blooming inside of him, spurt after spurt of release coating his antrum. His nub throbbed, his inner walls rippling.  
  
“Yours,” Rodimus agreed, and rode out the pulses of Megatron's clava, uncaring for the water that splashed around him, or that his own arousal had gone unsated.  
  
Megatron losing control was rare. That he'd gripped Rodimus tight enough to leave scrapes from his talons was a mark of victory. That he'd whined, deep in his chest, as he came was another reward. That he, even now, panted wetly in Rodimus' ear, his hips snapping in little twitches against and within Rodimus' antrum was Rodimus' claim as surely as the bitemarks on Rodimus' throat were Megatron's.  
  
“Oh, Primus,” Rodimus breathed as he worked his way back to Megatron's lips, tugging on the bottom one with his teeth. “Please tell me there's more where that came from.”  
  
Megatron's hand rose, holding the back of Rodimus' head firmly as he crushed their mouths together, less a kiss and more a claim. Rodimus whined into the kiss as Megatron's tongue thrust into his mouth, laying siege. All Rodimus could do was surrender. His own clava throbbed, his antrum pulsing with need.  
  
“I have never left you unsatisfied,” Megatron said against his lips and laid a string of kisses along the curve of Rodimus' jaw. “I don't intend to do so now.”  
  
Megatron gripped Rodimus' hips, lifting him in one powerful pull. Rodimus moaned and clutched at him, even as Megatron spun and deposited him on the edge of the springs, narrowly avoiding the plate of raspberries, and two extinguished candles.  
  
Crimson eyes gleamed at Rodimus as Megatron's hands slid to his knees, pushing them apart and open. Megatron's mouth descended upon him, swallowing his clava in one fell swoop.  
  
Rodimus gasped, back arching, his fist flying to his mouth. He bit on his knuckles, bucking up into Megatron's mouth, the warm wet of it. Megatron's grip on his knees flexed as his tongue lashed over Rodimus' clava. He rumbled and purred around Rodimus' clava, swallowing him whole, his tongue snaking free to tease and flick over Rodimus' clitnub.  
  
Stars danced behind Rodimus' eyes. His free hand landed on Megatron's head, and he hoped to Primus he wasn't hurting his almost-mate. The pleasure was too intense. It tore through his body in a blinding wave of ecstasy.  
  
Rodimus heard himself whimpering around his fist. He looked down, and all he could see was Megatron's mouth wrapped around him in single-minded determination to give him pleasure. Megatron's lips stretched around his clava, his tongue occasionally sliding free to lap at Rodimus' antrum and nub. Each flick of his fingers made Rodimus jerk and twitch in Megatron's hold.  
  
He thrust up, riding the motions of Megatron's mouth. A knot formed in his belly, a twist of heat and need. He gnawed on his fist, made impossibly high-pitched noises, until release stripped him raw and he spilled down Megatron's throat. Rodimus' eyes squeezed shut as he came, hips jerking toward Megatron's mouth, his come striping Megatron's tongue.  
  
Megatron swallowed every last drop, and then he gently laved Rodimus' clava, easing him through the last tremors. Rodimus whimpered, twitching under the loving touches, warmth building again in his belly. His antrum seeped with slick; he could smell it even above the raspberries. He clenched, wanting Megatron inside him all over again.  
  
“Mm.” Megatron made a noise of satisfaction and let Rodimus slip from his mouth. He straightened, rubbing his cheek against Rodimus'. “You are gorgeous in pleasure,” he said.  
  
Heat stole into Rodimus' face. He tried to duck his head, but Megatron's lips found his, capturing them before he could. Rodimus tasted himself on Megatron's tongue, and he shivered. There was something crazily erotic about it.  
  
Rodimus leaned in toward Megatron, his legs wrapping around Megatron's waist, trying to pull Megatron closer. His antrum throbbed with need. He ached on the inside, eager for Megatron to fill him all over again. Once, twice, it would never be enough.  
  
Rodimus made an urgent noise, nipping at Megatron's lips. “I want,” he said, rocking against Megatron's featherdown, leaving streaks of his slick against Megatron's damp feathers.  
  
Megatron chuckled. “I know you do.” His hands cradled Rodimus' hips, pulling him closer, into a satisfying grind that made Rodimus shiver. “You are insatiable.”  
  
“And you aren't?” Rodimus huffed, though it was a stretch for outrage. “That's not a stick poking me.” Or sliding along his thighs. Or rubbing against his rim. Or stroking over his nub.  
  
Primus, save him. Rodimus moaned.  
  
“It is entirely your fault,” Megatron retorted and nuzzled his way back to Rodimus' throat, teeth grazing and nipping, little stings. “”I suppose you bring it out in me.”  
  
Rodimus shivered at the tiny bites, little claims for all to see. They were never going to leave the hot springs at this rate. Poor Soundwave would be stuck out there forever.  
  
Megatron rolled his hips again, his clava grinding against Rodimus' nub. Pleasure sparked in Rodimus' groin, his antrum clenching madly. It was the sweetest kind of torture.  
  
Too bad for Soundwave, Rodimus decided and rocked his hips, demanding that Megatron enter him again.  
  
He was going to take advantage of every moment of this. The rest of the world could wait as far as Rodimus was concerned.  
  
“And if I'm insatiable, it's because you started it,” Rodimus shot back, and dug in his tarsal talon, urging Megatron closer to him. “So you better frag me before I lose my mind.”  
  
Megatron purred deep in his chest, a low growl that echoed in Rodimus' ears. “Very well,” he said, and aimed his clava at Rodimus' antrum, the tip teasing at his entrance before he started to slowly slide inside. “As you wish, my consort.”  
  
Rodimus shivered and stole Megatron's lips for a kiss.  
  
Consort.  
  
He dearly loved the sound of that.  
  
Consort indeed.  
  


~

  
  
Dawn peeked over the horizon, the sun turning the sky awash in shades of pink and red and orange, not unlike the smol Harpy in Megatron's arms as a matter of fact. The smol Harpy who was currently a damp, purring heap of feathers as he cuddled against Megatron's chest and ate his raspberries one by one.  
  
Rodimus savored each berry, wrapping his tongue around them one at a time, and chewing slowly. He made noises of delight in his throat, noises that threatened to stir Megatron's clava, were he not so disgustingly sated. For once, he was content to lie here, the curtain to the balcony drawn to the side to afford them a view of the rising sun.  
  
Yes, they'd spent the entire night rutting in the hot springs. Soundwave was probably never going to forgive him.  
  
It was worth it.  
  
Megatron stroked a hand down Rodimus' back, patted him gently on the rump, and then started at the top again. There he briefly lingered to card his fingers through the softer mane of feathers around Rodimus' clavicle. Rodimus purred, a light, musical vibration against Megatron's chest. He wriggled happily and consumed another raspberry, his lips stained a soft pink, and his talons smelling of the sweet fruit.  
  
“Want one?” Rodimus asked, offering up one of the dark red treats.  
  
“You'd actually deign to share?”  
  
Rodimus' lips pulled into a pout. “Why wouldn't I? Do you want one or not?”  
  
Megatron opened his mouth by way of answer, and to his relief, Rodimus carefully set the raspberry on his tongue. Megatron closed his lips around it and Rodimus' talon before Rodimus withdrew it fully.  
  
The sweet and tart flavor burst over his tongue. Unlike Rodimus, Megatron did not savor. He enjoyed the berries, but not to the extent Rodimus did.  
  
“Thank you,” he said.  
  
Rodimus nuzzled against his chest and popped another raspberry into his mouth. “Thank you for getting them for me,” he said with a happy sigh. “And thank you for last night. It was unexpected, but nice.”  
  
“You deserved it,” Megatron replied. He pressed a kiss to the crown of Rodimus' head, stroking down the smol's back again. “Thank you for choosing me, Rodimus.”  
  
Rodimus' legs tangled with his as the sky lit up with bright fire. “Ah, you're turning mushy again. If I remember, you finally let me in, so you had something to do with it.”  
  
Megatron's lips quirked in a grin. “Yes, that, too.” He patted Rodimus' aft. “And I'm not mushy.”  
  
“Are, too,” Rodimus retorted, though it was hard to tell, given he'd just stuffed a handful of raspberries into his mouth all at once. So much for savoring.  
  
“If I am mushy, as you say, then it is entirely your fault,” Megatron replied, but there was little heat behind it, just a savoring warmth.  
  
Rodimus made a noncommittal noise. “I sure hope you don't have anything planned this morning,” he said instead. “Cause it's dawn already and I'm not moving anytime soon.”  
  
“No, Soundwave was kind enough to volunteer Orion into taking over my duties for the morning.”  
  
“Ah. That Soundwave. Always looking out for you.” Rodimus hummed in his throat and popped the last few raspberries into his mouth. “Yummy. I hope there's more.”  
  
Megatron chuckled. “I will get you more.”  
  
“Good.” Rodimus rested a hand on Megatron's chest.  
  
Megatron stroked his back, listening to him breathe, and watched the sun's slow but steady ascent in the sky.  
  
For Rodimus, anything.


End file.
